Blood is an Aquired Taste
by airfaery
Summary: What is 'normal' for a werewolf? As much as she tries, Julia cannot compensate for her small size and her parents weirdness. In the middle of nowhere, she finds what it really means to be different.
1. Grass Stains

Chapter 1 Grass stains

I glared up at my rival. He was strong and large. I was swift but small. I cursed my size. I had been born the runt, fit only to be thrown out. My mother had saved me. All her other pups before me had perished in the first few months. She had comforted me all my life. For the first time, I actually wished I had never been born.

Lewis bared his teeth and started to advance. I longed to take a step back, but to do so would show weakness. He towered over me and I was forced to tip my head back to look at his face. The top of me only came to his chest. Clenching my fists, I waited for his next move.

To my surprise, he just laughed. I swung my fist angrily and it made contact with his brick of a body. Neither of us winced, but my knuckles throbbed slightly. "What are you going to do anyway?" he murmured to my hair. "Trip me?"

I delivered a sharp knee to where it would hurt most. He grunted, and swerved away and I finally stepped back. I swore loudly to his face. "I could whip you any day, you over-sized pup!" Turning on my heel I walked as proudly away as I could. He had exposed my weak spot, making me inferior. Baring my teeth, I vowed that that would never happen again.

My mother, Gwen, was waiting for me at one of the crappy restaurant's booths. She looked tired and sad and I wondered why. Any other of the adult's would have hounded me to kick butt. My mother however said nothing. She stirred her lemonade with the plastic straw. When I sat down, she took a sip. "I wish you wouldn't fight," she said a moment later. I gaped at her. Wouldn't fight? That's what we wolves did. We fought. Over mates, over food, for fun.

"He deserves it, the rotten flea bag." I called him some more dirty names. "He won't leave me alone."

Gwen sighed and looked at me, I twitched irritably. Why was she looking at me like that? "He just likes you dear, and will you please stop saying those awful words?"

I pushed my own diet coke to the middle of the table, watching the dark liquid swirl and splatter. "I'm just being normal," I hissed.

"A normal hooligan."

That's the last straw, in a manner of speaking; I stand and lean towards my mother. "What's wrong with you?" I don't care to keep my voice down. The nearest group of people, a couple booths away, stops talking. "Why do you act like this? Nobody else does!"

A man, dressed in a shirt claiming the tacky fast food store's title and his name taps me on the shoulder. "Miss," he says annoyingly, his voice reminding me of a mosquito's whine, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"I'll leave when I d-," Gwen cuts me off.

"Go," she says. When I don't move, she says more firmly, "Now, Julia. I'll be home later."

The obnoxious man clears his throat and I twist around with amazing speed. I push past him. "I'm going," I announce to the world. I see the table in the back with Lewis and his cronies watching me. I bare my teeth at them. "Going," I whisper as I walk out the double glass doors. "Going, gone."

Not caring who sees me, I take off at a run. I speed off down the sidewalk, and don't slow down to a walk until I reach the huge field the townies call the "Green." At one point, the city council or some big company had planned to build something here, but either they were really slow at getting started or someone just decided it wasn't worth it.

I was pleased to notice that no one was there. Sometimes there are packs of boys on bikes or little families playing silly games. Today however was just the Green and me. I started off at a jog, and progressively started getting faster. Soon I was zooming over the bumps and hills. Now came my favorite part, I accelerated speed and prepared myself. I leaped of a large ledge and over a wet pit. That was the moment I felt as if I could fly.

My father, a once rogue wolf, had once explained super heroes to me. He said, that we as _loup garou _were almost as good of as them. We had our own super powers. I had pointed out that werewolves didn't try to save the world. No, my father had said, that's because humans are afraid of wolves and think we are the bad guys. And they are jealous too. We have immense power right at our fingers.

I had laughed at him then. My father words are confusing, even at the best of times. He's as much a freak as my mother but at least he understands what it is like to stand up for your self. For a moment, however as I sped down the hill I thought I understood what he meant. But in a heartbeat, that clarity was lost.

Slowing down only slightly, I rolled to a stop, getting green grass stains all over my jeans and shirt. I lay at the edge of the green, letting the cool grass rub against my skin. I breathed in the scent of earth and plant and human all mingling together. My own kind's scent was there too, faint after many days. It had been a while since the gathering had been on the Green. Too obvious, the elder ones said. So we had been meeting in the small woods outside of town. At least there was better hunting there.

I missed our old home. It had been back in the deep country where we owned a small farm. The law and persecutors had caught up to us. The government wanted the land and the religious eccentrics wanted us out. So we had moved to the dinkiest town in the middle of nowhere. They hadn't really known what to expect when our group showed up.

The youth in this town hadn't really ever known 'bad behavior'. I mean we put the town troublemakers to shame. We didn't want to get noticed, but in a town as small as this and as different as we are, it's impossible. I reminded myself that these were only temporary arrangements. The leaders had told us this. I forced myself to believe them. We had already been here almost a year.

I got up of the ground and didn't even bother to brush the grass out of my hair or straighten my clothes. As I walked home, I got some stares by the locals. They always stared at me like I was some wild animal ready to attack. What do you know? I practically am.

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**Hey thanks for bearing (baring??) with me on that. I haven't been on fan fiction for a while and I decided to try a new story. I hope you like it. The title is kind of random but you're here reading this right? Please Please PLEASE, tell me how I'm doing. (This means to review, it can be tricky at first but I know you'll get the hang of it ) Thanks, for reading! **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Cracks in the ceiling

When I got home, I scurried up to my room, trying to make as little noise as possible. Gwen was scrubby dishes in the sink with ferocity and determination. I know she hears me though, her back tenses slightly and she leans farther into the work. A flicker of guilt makes my stomach feel queasy but I push the feeling far out of my mind. I let anger take its place. I stomp slightly on the stairs to let her know that she is not forgiven.

Lying on my navy blue comforter in my room, my eyes trace the patterns on the ceiling. I am reminded of Madeline, in those children books my mother insisted on reading to me when I was young. She had a rabbit on the ceiling in her hospital room. I have a tiger, a dragon and, if you squinted and tilted your head, a wolf. Or maybe I just wanted to see a wolf.

When I had first started school, the second grade, my teacher was worried about how obsessed I was about wolves. At conference's with my parents she expressed this concern. They had insisted that it was 'just a phase'. Later, however they gave me a strict talk about the secrecy our tribe had to maintain. They said it was 'too dangerous to think about our other halves while there are humans around'. I had to wait for the moon phases to change.

I knew the stories about our changing but I still thought it was glorious. Wolves, in my opinion, are the most amazing of animals.

Suddenly, I was broken out of my reverie by the creaking of the door downstairs and the low growls of my parents speaking to each other. Footsteps sounded up the stairs and my father, Richard, poked his head into my room. He is tall and lean, with a handsome face and sparkling eyes. A scar from one of his fights before he met my mother stretches across one cheek. He claims to the human world that it was from a car accident.

"Hey Jules," he says, trying to sound light-hearted. He doesn't fool me. His face is serious, "I heard you got kicked out of a restaurant and fought with your mother."

"That's about it," I say, nonchalantly.

He comes in and perches next to me on my mattress. "Julia…" he began and then changed his mind. "We're worried about you."

I start in surprise. "Me?" I ask, flabbergasted, "Why?"

"You seem to be getting in a lot more fights lately, for starters." Richard clutches his knees and stares off into the clutter of my room.

Standing, I feel anger boil up inside of me and the argument left unsettled with Gwen comes back. "Why are you staging like some meatie?" I growl. "You and Gwen, you are not a human so why do you act like one? I act like every young wolf is supposed to and you don't."

I glare at him, wanting to go on but waiting for a reaction. Richard just shakes his head and asks calmly, "How do you want us to act? What is wrong with being who we are?"

Grabbing a pillow, I begin to tear at it with my fingernails. "You are a werewolf! You are supposed to act like a killer not some peace-making, humble pie lamb!" My father just stares at me and I scream. It's one of those mixed between a pup's wail, a desperate howl and metal screeching against metal. I see him flinch slightly and I wail again. "Get out of my room," I hiss when I am finished. "I never wish to see you again, even if you are my parent." I give him a sharp push towards the door.

He leaves. I feel ashamed. I am almost fifteen seasons, not some fifteenth moon pup. I am too old for temper tantrums. Wretched, I sneak out of my second story window and drop to the grass below. I have no idea where I am going but I start walking, trying to make the conflicting feelings of rage and guilt subside. They will not. It is now fully dark, and I feel the half-moon staring at me with silvery perfection.

Arching my back, I drop to all fours. Before I reach the ground I am a wolf. I am still small, even in wolf form but I feel beautiful. Silvery gray with dappled colors marks my pelt. It is a dark color with tips of white on my tail, snout and ears. Enjoying the feel of the incredibly strong muscles I possess and the acute senses I set off down the cement and dirt street of the pathetic town I refuse to call home.

Suddenly I am overcome with the blood lust, the need to kill. I need fresh meat and I zero in on some prey. Even though I cannot see it, I can smell it and I start to stalk my meal. I can feel the blood rushing through its veins and arteries flowing through and out of the heart. They will never be expecting me. Pure exhilaration powers through me as I move in for the kill.

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**Wow, that was a short and extremely lame chapter but I promise it'll get better. I feel like this is just a repeat of the first chapter and if you agree with me, I might change it. Please review, I have no idea how I'm doing and it can be very discouraging when you think nobodies sees your work. I don't want to have to beg (what a disgusting thought!)  
Thanks though for all those who supported the first chapter. You don't know how much it means to me. So, I promise to get better if you promise to review. Now I'm rambling. Anyway...on with the story!**


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